


"Vital to the Future of You All"

by IncomingAlbatross



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: (everyone in this family is a nerd and that's CANON), Doctor Who References, Fluff, Forduary, Gen, Many of them, Pines Family Bonding, Post-Weirdmageddon, Some feels, nerds being nerds, vague spoilers for "Don't Dimension it"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 15:37:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17869979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncomingAlbatross/pseuds/IncomingAlbatross
Summary: After a long, somewhat stressful day of sealing dimensional rifts, Ford thinks it might be nice to take the evening off from post-Weirdmageddon repairs and just . . . relax.Thankfully, he has a lot of old pop culture to reacquaint himself with, and a family full of nerds who are happy to join him.(Copious amounts of classic Doctor Who nerdiness within, but no DW knowledge is needed for comprehension. A Forduary 2019 fic.)





	"Vital to the Future of You All"

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty much every character in this is, at one point or another, basically just _me._ Except maybe Stan . . . but, honestly, he would have been too if the story had gone on much longer.
> 
> Also, shout-out to my sister for giving me feedback before I posted! It was greatly appreciated.

_It's good to be back,_ Ford thought as he entered the Shack. True, they'd been out for less than a full day, and sealing the post-Weirdmageddon dimensional weak spots in the area was highly necessary . . . but right now, he thought he'd be just as glad to never have to deal with the multiverse again, in any way, shape or form.

The kids were tired, too, he thought. Not surprising, considering they'd almost lost Mabel through the first of the rifts--Dipper might not have gone through, but Ford knew a _little_ bit about what worry and fear for your twin could take out of you. They'd both been chattering away about their experiences when they went into the kitchen just now, though, and he thought they'd be fine as long as they were able to stick close to the rest of the family for a while.

As for Stan . . . Well, he seemed fine, but after their pointless bickering over saving Mabel earlier, Ford wondered if it would really be a good idea to start another memory-recovery session today. Even if the bulk of things was mostly back in place already, these sessions tended to be emotionally taxing for both of them . . .

"Earth to Stanford. What's goin' on in your oversized brain?"

Well, apparently Stan had noticed his absence of mind. Ford shook himself and turned to him. "I was just thinking . . . It's been a long day. For all of us. Maybe we should take a break from anything too strenuous for a while?" He cracked a smile. "I mean, considering the dimensional repairs we accomplished, we have probably saved the world multiple times today."

"Heh! I'd say we've hit our quota, yeah." Stan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I'm not up to much right now, either . . . Hm, what's a relaxing activity that can be done in a group yet requires zero brain activity?"

Soos poked his head through the doorway from the living room. "Dudes! I got the TV and the VCR working again!"

Stan looked at Ford.

Ford looked back at him.

"Hey, kids!" Stan shouted. "Who wants to spend the night bingeing old TV until your brains rot?"

"We do!" "We do!" two young voices chorused immediately. Mabel sped into the hallway, Dipper not far behind her.

"Are we having a Family Movie Night?" she asked eagerly. "We should have ice cream. Ice cream sundaes and TV nights are the _perfect_ combination!"

"Can we?" Dipper echoed, eyes imploring. "I'm pretty sure there's hot fudge sauce in the fridge, and Mabel always has sprinkles and stuff . . . Oh, or we could make floats! Do you know what a Pitt float tastes like, Grunkle Stan?"

"Uhh . . ." Stanley stared into space for a moment, brow furrowed. But then his face cleared. "Y'know what? It tastes _great._ "

"Really?"

"Yeah. In fact, I'd even go so far as to say it tastes . . . _peachy!_ " He began cackling. "Get it?"

Ford burst out laughing. "That is . . . that is _so dumb,_ Stanley,"  he got out between chortles, but Stan just grinned and laughed more loudly.

" _Mabel,_ " Dipper said loudly, a look of horror on his face. "Mabel, there are _two of them_ now."

"Uh, _yeah?_ " Stan snickered. "It's called 'being twins,' kiddo, pretty sure you know how that works."

"Hey," Dipper protested, struggling to keep a straight face, "nobody told me it meant two Grunkles with identical _terrible_ taste in jokes!"

Ford straightened, donning his own horrified expression. That was something he couldn't just let pass--not from a member of his _own family_. "'Terrible'? Dipper, my boy. I am _betrayed!_ "

"Hey, _you_ said it was dumb . . ." he pointed out mock-innocently.

"That is the _point_ of a good pun, Dipper!" He huffed. "Isaac Asimov- _-_ among others--considered a play on words to be the noblest form of wit. Are you really going to argue with Isaac Asimov?"

Dipper opened his mouth, but before he could speak Mabel put a hand on his shoulder. "Just let it go, bro," she advised him gravely. "Let them have their old man jokes."

"Hm . . . I suppose. Do we get ice cream?"

"Geez, of course we're gonna have ice cream. What do I look like, some kinda monster?"

"Eh . . ." Dipper waved his hand noncommittally, grinning.

"Thanks Grunkle Stan! What're we watching?" Mabel's eyes widened. ". . . There are _so many_ good movies Grunkle Ford hasn't seen!"

"Nope," Dipper said immediately. "Nope nope nope. You are _not_ subjecting him or us to _Dreamboy High._ Or Shimmery Twinkleheart. Not tonight, Mabel!"

"Craz and Xyler are our _friends,_ Dipper. Don't hate on 'em!"

"Actually . . ." Ford said hesitantly. "I have missed a great deal while I was wandering the multiverse, but I'm not sure I'm up for catching up on popular culture tonight. Could we watch something older, perhaps? I'm under the impression home video cassettes took off while I was gone . . ."

Mabel stuck out her tongue. "Bleb. Okay, we can watch old television . . . Grunkle Stan has tapes somewhere, right Grunkle Stan?"

He squinted. "Yeah, I think I do . . . Hey, Soos! Where do we keep the tapes and things?"

"In some boxes up in the attic, mostly! You want me to get something?"

Stan shrugged. "Eh, I dunno what. Poindexter wants to watch TV, but nobody's picked anything yet . . ."

"I could bring some boxes down," Soos suggested. "Mini-dudes, you wanna help me out?"

"Sure!" Mabel agreed. "Poking through other people's stuff is always fun, right, Dipper?"

"Well, I do like old TV. . ."

The three of them trooped upstairs, leaving Stan and Ford to drift into the living room.

"I definitely need to watch _Star Wars: Episode VI_ at some point, though," Ford mused. ". . . It did get made, right?"

Stan squinted as he sat down. "Uhh . . . Probably. Which one would that be?"

"Well, when _Episode V_ ended Han was frozen in . . . carbon, I think? And Luke--Wait." Ford snapped to a halt, suddenly and vividly remembering the concept of "spoilers." "Have you seen _Star Wars_?"

"Geez, of course I've seen _Star Wars_! They've got space battles and lightsaber fights and alien smuggling, who do you think I am? Just not sure which movie's which right now."

Before Ford could reply, a high-pitched squeal came from somewhere above them. They glanced up in unison.

". . . Dipper?" Stan guessed.

Ford nodded. "Definitely Dipper."

"Heh . . . Wonder what they found this time."

Footsteps and excited voices sounded above them, and soon the three younger folk were coming loudly down the stairs. Soos had a cardboard box in his arms, Mabel was skipping ahead of him, and Dipper hung off of his shoulders. Both the twins were singing loudly . . . Or, well, doing something adjacent to singing.

"DA-da-da-dun, da-DA-da-da-dun, da-DA-da-da-dun, da-DA-da-da-dun. . ." Dipper was chanting.

Mabel chimed in with, "Oo-ee-OO, OOO-ooo, OOO-ooo. DOO-dee-doo. . ." keeping time with his beat.

Ford tilted his head to the side. Their song reminded him of something . . . Something buried just a few layers below his readily-accessible memories, but entertaining and exciting all the same. It sent a thrill of vague nostalgia through his mind . . .

Raising his voice to carry over the twins’, Soos announced, "Let the somewhat old-timey British sci-fi marathon COMMENCE!" The box landed on the floor with a dramatic thud. Dipper slid off of his back, letting his impromptu musical performance trail away with him.

"Yes!" Mabel cheered, pumping her fist in the air. "Cute robot dogs! Giant puppet-y monsters! Lots and lots of sandy alien planets!"

Dipper was digging tapes out of the box, beaming. "I can't believe I didn't know we had _Doctor Who_ in the house, Grunkle Stan!"

Ford felt a delighted smile break across his face as the pieces clicked together. " _Doctor Who,_ of course!" he exclaimed, eagerly joining Dipper on the floor. "It's been so long, I'd almost forgotten . . ." He looked at the collection, and felt his expression soften in surprise.

Running a finger along one familiar label, he turned to Stanley with bright eyes. ". . . You kept my tapes?"

"I kept all your stuff, knucklehead. I mean, unless it seemed like it was gonna gain sentience and attack me in the night."

"Did you tape these when they first _aired,_ Great-Uncle Ford?" Dipper broke in. He sounded awed.

Ford chuckled, tousling his hair. "Some of them, my boy! Some I obtained from college friends or other fans, though . . ." He paused. "You and Mabel have watched _Doctor Who?_ "

"Are you kidding?" Mabel exclaimed. "We were _raised_ on _Doctor Who!_ It's one of Dipper's favorite nerd shows--well, aside from _X-Files,_ and _Ghost Harassers,_ and--"

"I think they get it, Mabel," Dipper interrupted, laughing. "But yeah, Dad was a big fan too, and he kinda brought us up on _Doctor Who._ Especially the 70's Doctors, which is what you seem to have . . ."

"Yes, the last I was aware of they hadn't really aired the earlier seasons in America," Ford agreed. "And of course I don't know about anything later . . . Truth be told, I only vaguely remember hearing about Tom Baker's departure." He frowned. "Was the next one any good? I seem to remember he was very young . . ."

"Eh, Peter Davison's okay," Dipper shrugged. "Nobody could really live up to Tom Baker, though, y'know?"

"Oh, absolutely," Ford agreed. He may not have seen many Doctors, but it was hard to imagine anyone topping that performance.

"Pfft. Peter Davison is _adorable,_ " Mabel countered, rolling her eyes. "You just don't get him, Dipper!"

"Yeah, yeah, you have crushes on all the young Doctors, I get it. You can't say the Fifth Doctor is better than the Fourth, though."

"Nooo. But you said he was 'okay,' and that's not really _fair._ And I don't have a _crush_ on him, I just think he's adorable. Like Waddles is adorable!"

"Nerds," Stan scoffed affectionately, still in his armchair. "I don't even know who you're talkin' about."

"Aw, c'mon, Mr. Pines!" Soos laughed. "Tom Baker's the one with the scarf, you know that! And Peter Davison's the blond one."

"Ohhh . . . The one in the dumb British baseball clothes?" He snorted. "Geez, how d'you people keep track of actors' names on top of the actual _characters?_ And why?"

Ford snorted himself. "That's rich coming from you, Mr. 'Ford, Ford, there's a new Harry Claymore movie, we gotta see it!'" He imitated his brother's voice as he spoke. (And if he was _ever-so-slightly_ incredulously gleeful that he could use that talent for harmless mockery once again, he didn't have to let it show.)

Stan just made a contemptuous face, which meant he had no good comeback. Ford grinned. "More importantly, though--" and he held up one of the tapes, still grinning "--you watched these?"

Stan shrugged, a shadow passing over his face. ". . . I guess? I guess I figured if you bothered to tape the show it couldn't be a _hundred_ percent boring."

Oh. There was something he didn't remember there . . . Or else something he didn't _want_ to remember. Ford gazed into the box for a moment, wondering.

. . . When did Stanley find the tapes, exactly? Was it that first winter, when he was still struggling even to quantify all the changes in his world? Or was it later, when he'd begun to grasp the seemingly impossible scope of the task he'd set himself?

What had he been thinking, either way, when he first grabbed one of his lost brother's tapes and pushed it into the VCR?

". . . You guys should pick one out," Stan said thoughtfully, interrupting his thoughts. "I'd like to watch 'em again."

Ford looked around to see a new, more contemplative expression on his face.

"There aren't any real labels, though," Dipper objected. "Just 'Doctor Who I' and 'Doctor Who II' and so on. I mean, we could just pick one at random . . ."

"Aw, no, dude, there's definitely a list in there somewhere! I went through them one winter back in the day and wrote down all the episodes." Soos chuckled. "Hey, how do you think I know the show?"

"Really? Awesome!" Dipper dove into the box, looking for the list.

Ford eyed Soos, and then his brother. "Just out of curiosity, Soos . . . were you paid for that?"

"It was the off-season," Stan grumbled, before the handyman could answer. "There's not much to do in the Shack during the winter, but he kept hangin' around anyway for _some_ reason. So I gave him a few bucks to go through your stupid unlabeled tapes, get some work out of him that way."

"Those were a great few weeks," Soos added nostalgically. "I really expanded my horizons, y'know?"

Ford bent his head over the box of tapes to hide his smile--even if Stan could maintain the "tough boss" facade for more than ten minutes at a time, it wouldn't do him much good as long as Soos was around.

"Man, I bet," Dipper said enviously. "I wish I could get paid to watch _Doctor Who._ "

"Well, you're watchin' it for free now, so you'll have to settle for that," Stan said. "Kids these days. Spoiled rotten, I tell ya."

" _Found it!_ " Mabel shouted triumphantly. She jumped to her feet, holding a packet of folded papers triumphantly aloft. "Episode list!"

Dipper, who had tumbled backwards at her cry of victory, got back into a kneeling position. "Really? Let me see!"

"Here." She handed the list over to Ford, who began unfolding it. "You get first pick, Grunkle Ford, because you've gone longer without watching any of these."

"Thank you, Mabel," he replied, smiling at her. "I welcome your opinions as well, though--I'm not sure I'll remember these correctly after all these years . . ."

She moved to stand behind him, chin resting on his shoulder. "Can do!" she chirped.

He looked at the list. At the top of the first page was written in large print, with a child's imperfect attempt at centering, " _DOCTOR WHO: LIST OF EPISODES" . . ._ with, for some reason, lightning bolts on each side of the text. There was also--huh, that wasn't a half-bad TARDIS in the corner! And K-9's blocky silhouette was quite recognizable as well.

Underneath the heading there were lists of story titles, subdivided by tape number. Ford ran his eye slowly down the column of names, smiling as they brought old memories back.

He'd first encountered the British science-fiction show during his college days, introduced to it by one of his DD&MD friends. Like so much else at the time, _Doctor Who_ had felt like a newly-discovered world to him, with its lengthy storylines, memorable monsters, and daring adventurer-scientist hero. He hadn't been able to find any more for a few years, though, and had forgotten about it until some time into his work in Gravity Falls. He'd discovered it was back on American television--with a new Doctor!--and though initially skeptical had loved this new iteration even more.

Looking over the titles now-- _Planet of the Spiders, Seeds of Doom, Face of Evil, Robots of Death--_ he remembered some of its sillier aspects, yes, but also how much depth and warmth and _life_ had been infused into the show. Even more, he remembered how genuinely moral the Doctor and his friends were, fighting cruelty and horror wherever they happened to run into it . . . not out of any obligation, but simply because none of them could see evil at work and let it be.

There were more than a few times, out in the multiverse, that he'd wished he could run into the Doctor himself.

"Ooh!" a voice said close to him, bringing him back to the present. Dipper was looking over his shoulder. " _Ark in Space_ is a good one . . ."

"Or what about the one with the dinosaurs?" Soos suggested, from the floor next to Stan's armchair.

"Hmm . . . Maybe?" Dipper said. "I think that's a Third Doctor one, though, and I'd kinda like Fourth . . ."

"Does anyone _punch_ the dinosaurs?" Stan asked, sounding interested.

Mabel laughed. "Sorry, Grunkle Stan! The Doctor doesn't have your awesome punching skillz."

"Lame!"

"Sorry, Great-Uncle Ford!" Dipper said, looking embarrassed. "We're supposed to be letting you choose . . . What do you think?"

Looking at him, Ford couldn't suppress his smile. "I would probably rather watch Tom Baker, my boy . . . But I think I'll be seeing all of them with new eyes, now, honestly."

After all, not only had he been thirty years younger last time he saw them, he'd mostly been watching them alone, or with college acquaintances or Fiddleford. Now he had four pairs of new eyes right here with him, ones he'd never shared them with before.

So he was largely content to let the children hash out their own choices (with occasional input from Soos and Stan), until they settled on _Pirate Planet._

"I mean, it's Douglas Adams, so . . . It's kinda either that or _City of Death,_ " Dipper said, shrugging. "We've watched _City of Death_ more, but we could still watch that instead if you'd like?"

Ford hummed. He did remember _City of Death . . ._ but he wasn't sure he was up for a story about a one-eyed alien manipulating human history tonight. And . . . there was _something_ about that story he hadn't liked, back in the day, though he couldn't remember now what it was.

"Let's go with _Pirate Planet,_ at least to start with," he said after a moment. "We have the whole evening ahead of us, after all!"

Dipper grinned. "Yes. Yes we do."

After they found the proper tape (and the children had remembered the promised ice cream, resulting in a mass detour to the kitchen), the family settled into place. Stan was in his armchair, as usual, with the younger twins crowding onto the seat and arms. (They'd both end up in his lap by the end of the night, of course, judging by the past week, but that would happen later.) Soos, as the only one who truly understood the temperamental VCR, sat on the floor, while Ford settled onto the dinosaur skull.

As Soos began fast-forwarding to the correct point on the tape, and Ford leaned against his brother's side, he found himself thinking about the oddity of shared experiences. Everyone here had watched this story before, after all--himself and Stan and Soos, presumably all in this very room--and yet they'd all watched it separately, under very different circumstances.

He had been young and proud and self-isolated, while Stan was . . . who knows where? and the rest of those in this room hadn't been born. Stan had been grieving, probably, tired and alone, while Ford was doing his best to survive somewhere out in the vastness of the multiverse. And Soos and the younger twins had been innocent children, watching it in much the same way he and Stan had watched _Lost in Space_ and _Star Trek_ and (when they could get away with it) _The Twilight Zone,_ in their own childhood.

But now here they were, all in the same place. They were about to re-experience it together--sharing the laughter and the suspense and the moments of victory.

Ford thought about his memories of watching _Doctor Who,_ alone with no one to bounce reactions off of or to guess the next plot twist, and wondered yet again how he could have been _quite_ such an idiot.

"What're you thinking about, Poindexter?"

"Hm? Oh, not much," he said, glancing at his brother's amused face. "Just . . ." Ford trailed off. "Old experiences, I suppose. And . . . new memories."

Stan's eyes flickered downward, an understanding smile tugging at his lips. "Well, quit thinking it so loud," he said gruffly. "The show's starting."

Soos hit “play,” scooting back until his back was against the armchair. The kids cheered quietly as the tail-end of a commercial gave way to the familiar black-and-blue graphics of the opening theme.

_DA-da-da-dun, DA-da-da-dun, DA-da-da-dun . . ._

Feeling a smile grow across his face, Ford took a cautious bite of his (Mabel-constructed) hot fudge sundae . . . and suddenly realized one way this was _already_ different from all his previous times watching.

For the first time since he'd discovered the show, he felt absolutely no desire for the TARDIS to materialize in his own life.

 _After all,_ he thought, leaning a little more securely into his brother’s side, _where else could I possibly want to be?_

**Author's Note:**

> And then they watched Pirate Planet and it was great. Stan mocked the ineffectual psychic cult mercilessly (and was very frustrated by the streets full of precious gems), Mabel shouted the villain's lines in unison with him, and everyone cheered when K-9 defeated his nemesis. (There _was_ one bad moment involving one character taking a dead character's glasses and folding them up, which Stan didn't do so well with . . . but Ford was _right there,_ so it was okay.)


End file.
